Pretty Poems
by sour-skittle13
Summary: Olivia writes Elliot a poem.What happens when Elliot finds it?
1. Default Chapter

Dear Elliot,

Sometimes when I go to bed I pull the blankets tight,

And close my eyes and try to see your face with all my might.

We've been together many years as colleagues and as friends,

But now my heart is telling me this dance of ours must end.

You've come to mean so much to me, much more than I can say,

The happiest moments of my life are spent with you each day.

I know you have another girl who brings smiles to your eyes,

And I would rather eat my gun than turn your vows to lies.

I know you're protective of me, it's your job to keep me well,

But I can't ever buy your heart, no matter what I sell.

You're always there to fix me up and heal me when I ache,

But then I have to let you go and my heart always breaks.

Yet in you late night phone calls and our private talks, we two,

You'll never hear me say it, though I mean it, I LOVE YOU!


	2. chapter 1

**Pretty Poems**

**Chapter 1 **

I'm just about to leave the office when I think of something. I shuffle through my pants pocket and pull out my cell phone. My fingers automatically dial the first number that pops into my head. Olivia's.

"Benson?" her voice scratches when she answers on the second ring.

"Hey Liv, I-" _miss you, want you with every fiber of my being, love you, _"hope you're feeling better!"

Yeah, I know, lame ending to what could have been a soul-searching conversation, but I don't want her to die on me. She breaks into a spastic fit of coughs, as though to prove my point that just about a poke would give her a myocardial infarction, and I know that she is probably feeling even worse than the last time I called her, which was sometime this morning.

"Thanks," she chokes out when her coughing subsides, and I feel my heart break for her.

Her coughing is deep in her chest, and it sounds really painful. She might have bronchitis, in which case, nothing could keep me from being at her house, spoon feeding her honey and chamomile tea until she feels one hundred and ten percent better.

"Do you want anything Livy? I can drop it at your apartment,"

She coughs again and clears her throat, "El?" I can barley hear her. "Can you bring me the Malcolm Case File? I'm kind of behind on my paperwork."

I try not to chuckle. I don't think Olivia has missed a single day of work since she started working here six years ago. Sure, when it was a question of either taking some time off or turning in her badge she would leave, but that usually happened to me. Even on the day her mother died, Liv came to work. On the one day that she is out, she asks for a case file

"Sure thing partner, um" I pause; I have no idea where the file is.

She reads my mind, after more coughing, "It's on my desk El,"

"Okay, thanks sweetie!" I wait for her to mumble a goodbye and hang up first before I close my phone.

I grab my coat and pull it over my shoulders and head to my locker. I snatch the apple I have inside and place it in my mouth to hold it with my teeth. It's my dinner and seeing as I haven't eaten since lunch, seven hours ago, I'm starving.

I wave goodbye to Cragen, Munch and Fin have already left, and pull the main glass door open. I take the stairs down to the ground floor instead of the elevator and listen to the small thuds my dress shoes make against the linoleum tiles.

I turn the key in the ignition of my brown sedan and pull out of the small parking lot in front of the precinct. At the first red light I realize something. I forgot Liv's file. I make an illegal u-turn and head back to the station house.

Her desk has a couple file folders on it and I open each one to find the Malcolm Case. It's not any of them. I open her first drawer and a piece of paper catches my eye. My name is written across it in some sort of black marker and it's folded in thirds.

I tell myself I'm not going to look at it, but my hands gently grasp it of their own accord. I slowly unfold it and run my fingers along the creases, smelling her perfume subtly cling to the sheet. My eyes are drawn to the flowing handwriting, dancing across the page.

_Dear Elliot, _

_Sometimes when I go to bed I pull the blankets tight, _

_And close my eyes and try to see your face with all my might. _

_We've been together many years as colleagues and as friends, _

_But now my heart is telling me this dance of ours must end._

_You've come to mean so much to me, much more than I can say,_

_The happiest moments of my life are spent with you each day._

_I know you have another girl who brings smiles to your eyes,_

_And I would rather eat my gun than turn your vows to lies._

_I know you're protective of me; it's your job to keep me well,_

_But I can't ever buy your heart, no matter what I sell. _

_You're always there to fix me up and heal me when I ache,_

_But then I have to let you go and my heart always breaks._

_Yet in you late night phone calls and our private talks, we two,_

_You'll never hear me say it, though I mean it, I love you. _

I give myself a moment to let the message sink in, part of me is admiring Liv's poetry, the other part is saying I better get my act together and get to her house soon. I sprint out of the precinct, this time grabbing her file on my way out.

I don't remember any of the car rides to her house, I don't remember where I parked my car, and I don't remember climbing the stairs to her front door.

I knock a few times and listen for an answer.

"It's open," Liv calls back, her throat obviously pained.

I turned the doorknob and tiptoe inside, Olivia is curled up in a large black armchair with a purple afghan draped around her slim body. Our eyes lock and she smiles softly at me. Light from her floor lamp is radiantly bathing her body in a golden glow and she looks like an angel.

"Hey," I whisper, moving to sit at her feet, and handing her the file.

She gives me a weak smile and I feel like a lost puppy, begging for anything she throws to me.

"Thanks," I can hear her swallow her cough and I hope she doesn't notice the concern fill me eyes at the action.

She does.

"I'm fine El," she rasps at me and I hoist myself to my knees and basically crawl towards her. "It's nothing, I feel okay."

I don't believe her. "Bull, Livia! Baby, you're sick as a dog!"

For a second, I imagine that a small smile flickers across her face when the pet name falls from my mouth, but it's gone in an instant and I'm convinced I was wrong.

"Wouldn't I tell you if something was wrong?" she's trying not to chuckle.

I take her hands in one of mine and with the other I tilt her face to look at mine. "No," I reply, suddenly very aware of how close we are to each other.

"You know me too well," her voice is reduced to a soft whisper, one that caresses my ears and sings through my head, spreading chills down my spine.

But she's wrong; I don't know her well enough. I don't know wether she likes hard of soft kisses, if she prefers hot sex or sweet love, I don't know half of what I'd like to know about her. I'm sure as hell willing to find answers now.

I let my hand slip around the back of her neck and I see her eyes flit to my mouth. That's all the encouraging my instinct needs, I let my lips gently bump hers.

She sighs softly against my mouth and I grasp her bottom lips gently with my teeth, pulling her mouth open to my questing tongue. Our kiss becomes hotter and deeper until she forcefully pushes me away, and I almost fall over.

I stare up at her can feel the heat rolling off of both our bodies, she might have a fever, if I made her any sicker I'll never forgive myself, only right now I'm too preoccupied with all the blood in my body flowing south to think about guilt right now.

"I can't" she mumbles, staring down I her shaking hands.

My wife and I aren't divorced, just separated so there is no reason why my heart should be breaking into a billion pieces but it is.

"I don't want you to get sick." She whispers, still not looking at me.

In response to her soft acclamation I let my lips brush against her throat about an inch under her ear. She relaxes into me and moans softly.

"Shh Baby," I croon into her ear, feeling her shudder under my gentle touches.

Her lips seek mine again and I feel lost in her love. I push her farther back into the armchair and her file falls onto the hardwood floor, her letter spilling out from the folder.

Liv looks at it then at me and blushes a deep red. I take in her pink tinged skin, mussed hair and bruised lips, her chest heaving with each breath she takes. I count silently to ten, trying to stave off the need to rip her clothes off then.

"I love you Olivia," I whisper, pulling her into a tight hug, feeling her snuggle in my embrace.

"I love you too!" is the response I get.

tbc……… If people like it.


	3. Chapter 2

A/N: the poem is called "Let's Give our Love a Try" by Laura C. Humphries. I thought it was perfect for this moment.

* * *

**Pretty Poems**

**Chapter 2**

"Welcome back Detective, feeling better?" Cragen asks when my partner slides into her desk chair.

She nods and smiles, "Much thank you! Did I miss anything really important?"

I chuckle softly and shake my head when she sends me her best glare. What is it with Olivia and work? She's like a workaholic, actually let me re-phrase that; she **is** a workaholic.

We haven't talked about the night I went to bring her her file on the Malcolm Case. That was almost a week ago. She's been out since then, hacking up a lung and making sure that half of the blood in her body was made up of that gross pink pepto stuff. I'm afraid that if I try to broach the subject I'll send her running, I'm scared that she'll blame everything she said on the delusions brought on by her high fever.

Munch catches me staring at her and sends me his signature, penetrating, over the tops of his glasses stare. I smirk at him and flick a paper football in his direction only to get a sharp kick aimed at my shin from the other side of my desk.

"Oww, hey!" I protest, shooting my partner a look of innocence, "What did I do?"

"Don't throw those things unless you want Dad to take away our only way to relieve boredom." She lets her eyes meet mine for a moment before looking back at the file on her desk.

"Liv," I chuckle at her struggle to ignore me, "Olivia," she stares at the same word in her file still, "Benson," her annoyed eyes meet mine, I laugh again, "Doesn't not throwing them defeat their purpose?"

She growls and chucks a pencil in my direction and I duck, watching it fly behind me and bounce off of Fin's shoe as he makes his way to the coffee pot. He sticks his tongue out at Liv and pours himself a mug, ignoring his partner's snide comment about juvenile behavior. We all watch him take a long gulp of the putrid liquid before spitting it back out again. Munch has conveniently slipped out the squad room to avoid the objects Fin is obviously going to send his way, seeing as he was the one who tried (unsuccessfully) to brew the pot of caffeine.

"I need a **real** drink!" Fin mutters to himself before turning to stomp into Don's office. "Can I go to Starbucks?" Liv and I hear through the open door before Fin stomps back out and grabs his coat. "Want anything?" he asks Liv and me. I shake my head. I've never really liked Starbucks, but my partner worships the café.

Just as I suspected, her face breaks into a gorgeous grin, "Fin?" she asks sweetly, he grunts in response. "I'd love you forever if you could bring me a White Chocolate Mocha!" I can see the glazed look cross her features at the thought.

Fin nods and bangs out of the room and we hear the ping of the elevator before Munch pokes his head out of the Crib.

"Is he mad?" he asks cautiously,

Olivia laughs ruthlessly and Munch grumbles something about appreciating the fine art of coffee brewing which just makes Liv laugh louder.

There's something intriguing about my partner and I find that by the time lunch rolls around, I've only gotten through two files. Liv is on her twelfth.

Cragen pokes his head out of the office and points at me and my partner and motions for us to join him in his office. I see Munch smirk as Don closes the door and we take the seats in front of his desk. The leather is cold against my forearms and I notice Liv rub her upper arms with her hands. Cragen keeps his room really cold, just a random fact.

"I've got an open and shut case downtown; think you guys are up to it?" We both nod at the same time and Cragen smiles softly. "Thought so, Victim's name is Vanessa Crawford. She says her boyfriend Todd Michaels raped her. She's got bruises on her inner thighs and a handprint on her cheek. He wasn't smart enough to use a condom." Cragen pauses to let the information sink in, "All we need to do is pick up Todd and get a confession."

Olivia catches my car keys when I toss them to her and we give Cragen a small nod and I take the paper from him with our guy's address. We take the stairs like normal and I open the driver door for Liv. She smiles at me and starts the engine.

* * *

Todd seems nervous when we put him in the interrogation. He waved his right to an attorney, he says he wants to get this over with. Liv and I are gonna tag team him. Good cop, bad cop. Guess which one I am. That's right. Bad cop. 

We walk in together and Liv perches on the table in front of him. I roll up my sleeves and step around to lean against the wall with Todd's back to me. I crack my knuckles loudly and I see him flinch. Vanessa said that she tried to take charge for a moment and Todd snapped. Liv and I have a plan to get this bastard.

"Do you know why you're here?" Liv asks Todd nicely, he shrugs.

"'cause of Vanessa I guess." He frowns slightly, "I heard she got hurt."

If I didn't know any better I'd say this boy was clean. The lab is currently processing the DNA sample we took to "rule him out as a suspect".

"We were wondering if you could tell us anything you might know about her rape!" Liv coaxes quietly.

"Bull!" I interrupt, "Cut to the chase Detective." I spit the title out with a sneer and I see her inwardly flinch at the harshness in my voice. "Why'd you force the girl?" I sneer at Todd.

The boy just looks confused now, trying to figure out what we are doing.

"Elliot," Olivia plays her part well, Stepping next to me and placing a firm hand on my chest. "I think you need to calm down, take a walk or something, blow off some steam."

I take a deep breath before turning on her. I've seen the rage flash through our guy's eyes when she tells me what to do. I've got him in the bag.

"What the fuck gives you the right to tell me what to do?" I round on her menacingly, "You don't belong here, go home woman! Don't you ever give me commands, do you understand?"

She nods meekly and I see the tear welling up in her eyes, I know that she's just playing out her part. We agreed on the exact wording before we entered the room. We even established that she should break down. It would work best to our advantage. I watch her mutter a quick apology before rushing out of the room to undoubtedly take up her post behind the one way mirror.

"I hate women with superior attitudes." Todd pipes up from his seat. "It pisses me off but that was the worst man! That bitch thought she could tell you what to do!" The boy is livid.

"I know," I reply, "Sometimes I just want to show her that I'm in control and she can't say anything against what I do!"

Todd nods, "Vanessa was the same way. I had to show her who was boss."

We've got him.

I can't find Liv after I slap the kid's cuffs on and book him. She's not in the crib, at her desk, or the bathroom. Her coat is still hung up so I know she can't have gone far. I take out a letter I had written to her over the weekend and separate the poem from the note and write a new one.

_Dear Livvy,_ I write in my best handwriting, _I know that I can be a real ass to work with at times and I'm sorry. I didn't know how to approach you about this before because I was afraid you would push me away but I want you to know something. I'm not as good a poet as you are but I can express my feelings. This was a poem my dad told me to follow as I got older. He said that if I can find someone who this poem refers to I should snap her up and swallow her whole. I guess I realized all of this when you slept with Brian Cassidy. I'm sorry if this complicates things but I needed to let you know everything._

'_I write to you today_

_Not to tear you apart,_

_But I write to you today_

_To say what's on my heart._

_I know that we've been friends_

_For a very long long time,_

_You've told me your secrets_

_And I have told you mine._

_We've shared many special times_

_Like true good friends would,_

_You're one of those people_

_Who really knows me good._

_You hold a special place_

_In the center of my heart,_

_And my undying prayer_

_Is that we never grow apart._

_But there's something more that's there_

_Something more than friends,_

_Something I believe is real,_

_And I know it will never end!_

_What all started as just a dream_

_Has now actually become real,_

_I really don't mean to hurt anyone_

_I just can't help the way I feel._

_I began to question _

_If my feelings for you were true,_

_But really there's no question about it_

_Everything I want is you!_

_Everything I needed _

_Was right before my eyes,_

_But I was just so stupid_

_I never did realize._

_It was when you decided _

_To find someone to share your heart with,_

_That my feelings started to come together_

_And you I started to miss._

_I hope that you're not angry_

_At the way I feel for you,_

_But my heart just can't be stopped_

_These feelings are just so true._

_I_

_know we'd both be happy_

_To be with one another,_

_To go on for a lifetime_

_Only loving each other._

_You are such a special friend_

_And if I lost you I would never cease to cry,_

_So promise me you'll always be my friend_

_And let's give our love a try!'_

_I__'m in love with you Liv! _

_Love, Elliot_

I fold it into a small manila envelope and write her name across the front and place it on her desk.

I grab my coat and start out the door of the squad room. When I read my car I sit on the curb and stare out at the small parking lot for a couple minutes, just thinking to myself about everything.

I hear footsteps come up behind me and I stand to face my partner. She smiles softly and pulls me into a long hug. A piece of paper is clutched in her hand and I recognize the letter I wrote to her on the back of the poem.

"I'm in love with you too El," she whispers against my neck, "I was afraid that you didn't mean it romantically that time you came to see me when I was sick and then I made myself sicker worrying about your intentions."

I shush her and kiss her softly before opening the passenger door to my car and ushering her inside. My poem clutched to her heart.

* * *

The End…….. 


End file.
